


Beautiful Crime

by Johniarty



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Gore, Hannigram - Freeform, Happy Ending, Longing, Lust, M/M, Mutual Pining, Song fic, waxing poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: Is Will finally free? Does he even wish to be? He ponders the events that led him to the safe house, staring out at the waves, wondering if the ache he felt was fear or lust.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: If Music Be The Food Of Love





	Beautiful Crime

**Author's Note:**

> For the Hannigram playlist challenge! My plan was to write this one to focus on playing about in Will’s head, really dissecting his desires and thoughts, and to do a second one that was all primal lust and need, but my laptop broke and I have no computer :( 
> 
> The song that inspired this piece is Beautiful Crime by Tamer.

As the rough waves lapped against the shore Will took a long drink of the shiraz. Dry, bitter, it suited his mood - if not entirely his tastes. Golden light washed over the balcony, bathing him in the warmth of the setting sun. Hannibal wouldn’t see another sunset. The thought brought sorrow with it, as well as more bitterness.

A monster. That’s what Hannibal was, but knowing they’d never look at the same sky was…

He ached. It brought him a pain too deep to voice, one that ate at his very core, its teeth gnashing and relentless. Every wound felt fresh.

Hannibal had been so ready to sacrifice himself for Will. To relinquish his freedom. And for what? Was it truly just respect? Did Hannibal know?

Of course not. Will closed his eyes and shut out the thought. It was curiosity. It was professional courtesy. Longing swelled inside him as he gazed at the ocean. Deep, dark, troubled, his own emotions lashed against his heart.

Despite what Hannibal had done, despite the scar stretched across his stomach, Will couldn’t deny the intimacy of their… not relationship, no. Acquaintanceship. He never truly  _ knew  _ Hannibal, did he? Not until the end. Not until it was too late to deny their powerful attraction.

He took another drink, enjoying the raw feeling the wine left. 

There it was. The truth of everything. Hannibal left a hole inside him nothing could ever hope to fill. Intelligent, charming, always ready to touch Will… And oh, how those touches lingered in Will’s mind. After Abigail. After Alana. After his own gutting, when he lay stunned on the floor, clutching his stomach to keep his organs inside, all he could think about was how happy he’d been for that brief moment, the promise of family lulling him into perfect submission.

He’d seen himself as a predator. A hunter closing in on the kill. Knowing he’d been unwitting prey all along thrilled him in a dark, primal way. His cock stiffened in his jeans, an automatic response to most thoughts of Hannibal he’d found.

They weren’t as different as Will liked to pretend and he  _ knew  _ that. The rush of adrenaline when he murdered Hobbs, how easy it was to slip into the mindset of the sick killers Jack set him loose on, the details which he could see in vivid lucidity - even as it drove him mad it drove him closer to Hannibal.

Close enough it early cost him his life. 

Maybe it was worth it. Maybe the connection they shared, that undeniably tense connection, thick as a braided steel chain, was worth the incredible loss. Perhaps it was worth even his evisceration. 

For precious moments, however fleeting, Hannibal saw him. Truly saw him. He saw the walls around his soul and caressed them, his delicate fingers stroking along the grooves in the shadowed stone, coaxing them to crumble. 

As much as Will feared acknowledging their similarities he knew he couldn’t deny them. Their souls were entwined, their hearts beating out the same rhythm. Every breath one took the other swallowed. Despite their distance, their situations, Will knew Hannibal felt it too. 

The letters hadn’t stopped.

Each day brought a new letter addressed to him from the prison, written in fine calligraphy and covered in the faint scent of sanitization. Cleaners used in his cell. The air freshener the orderlies sprayed to keep out the dank smell of water damage creeping through the walls. Sometimes Will swore he caught the scent of Hannibal’s breath, as if he breathed life and love into every envelope before sealing them shut. 

He never read them. Not properly. He opened them, he inhaled, and he locked them away in the drawer of the desk the host provided. Hannibal’s praises and confessions would overwhelm him if he let them. It would be so easy to return to him, to visit him in his cell, to give himself over completely -

The sound of his cell startled him out of his thoughts. 

Jack’s number lit up the screen. 

It was easier just to ignore him. Will wasn’t ready to go back to work. He’d faced death itself, wrapped lovingly in its arms, how could any other murderer compare? Work would be dull, quiet, and safe - if he wished to heal, then Will needed the opposite. 

He turned his phone off and set it on the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. If it was an emergency then Jack could always find backup at whatever local department operated near the crime scene. 

Will refilled his glass and returned to the balcony. The fading light grew cold as he watched the sun slip beneath the horizon. A warm breeze stirred his hair as he lifted the glass to his lips again. Another dry swallow, the wine scratching at his throat as he forced it down. 

“How many glasses have you had tonight, Will?”

Just his mind. Just an illusion. He was lonely, that was all.

“Not nearly enough.”

“Why not switch to a wine you actually enjoy?”

Will closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

“The shiraz was already here. I don’t quite feel up to going into town yet.”

Footsteps. Calm. Slow.

Were those his imagination as well?

Hot breath stirred against his skin. Two strong arms wrapped around his waist and gently pulled him closer. The scent of blood was strong, metallic, competing with the aroma of his wine. Every sensation felt heightened as his heart hammered against his ribcage. This wasn’t his usual hallucination. This wasn’t a dream.

Hannibal had escaped. Hannibal had come to him.

“You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love, Will,” he whispered against his ear. “I believe you understand. You feel it as well. A longing threatening to consume you. I never should have pushed you away. It was reckless. I could have lost you…”

“And if I do? If I reciprocate whatever twisted desire you feel for me?”

“Then we will run. Together. We  _ will  _ have the family we’ve both wanted. I can make our dream a reality. We are two sides of the same coin. We are one, Will. Can you feel that?”

One hand pressed against his scar. The other slid up his chest, rubbing slow circles over his heart. His offer was beyond enticing. And he was right - Will knew their souls were tangled together, that their lives had converged because they were meant to.

He belonged to Hannibal. 

Hannibal belonged to him.

Will opened his eyes and turned his head. He started to speak, but Hannibal cut him off with a slow, passionate, lingering kiss.

When they parted, Hannibal offered him a warm smile. It was disarming. Will couldn’t help but remember how easily he’d given Hannibal complete control of him. It had felt right, just as it felt right there in the moment.

“What do I have to do?”

“Give me everything, Will. All of you. Share with me your thoughts, your heart, your soul. Don’t deny the true nature of your very self. Let me guide you. Let me train you.”

“Where will we go?”

“Europe. Every day will be a struggle, Will. A race. They know I came for you.”

Jack’s call. It must have been a warning.

Or a trap.

“We’ll face whatever happens together.”

Hannibal kissed his forehead. 

“Let’s get you packed. We have roughly fifteen minutes before Jack arrives with his retinue of officers.”

Will nodded. He rushed to the bedroom and started throwing his clothes and books into his luggage. With few minutes to spare, he locked the suitcases and followed Hannibal out to his waiting car.

The police lights glimmered in the distance as Hannibal drove them away. It felt right. Being beside him felt right. Will reached over and took his hand, enjoying the comfortable silence.

There was no hope for them to survive apart.


End file.
